


Best of All Worlds

by Sarren



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, First Time, M/M, Multi, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 00:43:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarren/pseuds/Sarren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Change can make people realise how they feel, and what they are willing to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best of All Worlds

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lewis_challenge on LJ.

_November 2011_

 

She caught sight of Hathaway ahead of her and hurried a bit to catch up. He turned and smiled at her. "Dr Hobson," he said.

"It’s Laura, I’ve told you."

"Laura."

"I must say, I’m glad it’s the weekend."

"You’re not on call?"

"No, thank God." Laura rummaged around in her bag for her car keys as they walked. "What about you?"

"Inspector Lewis is still up in Manchester with Lyn and the baby, so I’ve got the weekend free."

"So, what are you up to?"

"Not a lot." Hathaway shrugged. "A gig Sunday night, if you're interested."

"I'd like to see you play some time. Robbie says you're very good."

Hathaway looked pleased. Laura wondered if it was because she was showing interest, or because Robbie approved. "Look, I'm kind of at a loose end tonight. I had plans with an old friend but she’s had to cancel. Would you like to go get some dinner? I'll buy. I’m afraid it’s you, or the laundry."

Hathaway looked at her with an arrested expression. Did he think she was asking him out? Had it sounded like that? 

Laura thought about it. Would she mind if he took it that way? She'd been thinking she'd like to get to know him better, see what it was about him that Robbie was so taken with, but a date? She'd joked about it with Robbie, but he really was quite dishy. 

He thought about it for long enough that she figured he was going to say no. Oh well, looked like she was doing laundry tonight after all. But Hathaway surprised her. "I'd like that," he said, smiling warmly at her.

"Lovely," she said, smiling up at him, and took his arm companionably.

 

Dinner had been cleared away hours ago, and the pub was getting a bit rowdy now, but James didn't seem in a hurry to draw their evening to a close. They'd had a few drinks, chatted about work and, Laura thought wryly, the subject that interested them both the most. Laura was tipsy, and she rather thought James was too. He was telling her about a case he and Robbie had worked on last year, and his face fairly glowed with admiration as he recounted the skilful way Robbie had got the murderer to confess. It gave her the courage to ask something she'd been wondering for a long time. "Are you in love with him?" she asked, when he paused to take another sip of his beer, and watched the way his expression stilled, his whole body language closing up in an instant. "I think I am, at least a little bit," she said casually. "He's an easy man to love."

"Yes, he is," James said. He put his beer carefully back on its coaster with hands that trembled slightly. "And yes, I am, since you ask. Is it that obvious?"

 _Does he know_ was what James was asking, with, if she wasn't mistaken, something like terror lurking behind his customary bland expression. Feeling oddly protective, she covered his hand with hers. "It's all right, James," she said. 

He curled his long fingers around hers and held on. "I don't expect..." he said, and then looked as if he didn't know how to go on. "He's still in love with his wife." He laughed sharply, and Laura drew a breath at the bitterness in it. "Even apart from… anything else."

She patted his hand gently. "Of course he still loves her. He always will," Laura agreed. "I think he's ready to move on, though, otherwise I wouldn't have considered going out with him."

"But you didn't in the end, did you? You found someone else."

"I was confused," Laura said. "Franco seemed… easier. You know?"

James shrugged and picked up his beer again, staring into it.

"Anyway, I was mistaken. He went back to his wife—for the sake of the children, if you can believe it."

"He's married?" James' tone was carefully neutral.

"They'd been separated for two years." Laura held James’ hand tightly. "He was getting a divorce," she said, urgently. "I wouldn't have, otherwise." She wondered why it mattered that James believed her. 

To her surprise, James lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "I know," he said. He looked around for the barman, and signalled for another round to be brought to their table with his free hand. "Let's get plastered and commiserate with each other about our unfortunate taste in men," he said.

"Sometimes, James, you are brilliant," Laura announced, and finished off the last of her drink as the next one arrived at their table.

 

James had insisted on seeing her home, even though she'd assured him indignantly she was quite capable of getting a cab home by herself, thank you. Given that he was just as tipsy as she was, she wasn't sure what help he'd be if she did get mugged. His old world courtesy in insisting on getting out of the cab too and walking her to the door charmed her, and when he leaned in to kiss her cheek in farewell, an impulse born of some combination of affection and attraction made her turn towards him and their lips met. For a moment they just stood there, and then James’ hands slid up her arms and clutched her, just on the good side of tightly, and when he deepened the kiss she closed her eyes and held on.

In the bedroom, she didn't turn the light on. They undressed by the light of the moon creeping in through the half-open blinds and slid naked into her bed. She reached for him and he came to her eagerly, pushing his face into her breast and heaving a large sigh. She stroked his hair, wondering if this was all he wanted from her after all, a bit of comfort, but then he raised his head and kissed her deeply. Heat suffused her, unfurling through her limbs. They kissed for a long time, her lips becoming swollen and sensitive. When the pressure inside her started to build she pulled away long enough to retrieve a condom from the drawer and slide it on to him. Then she held him as he pressed against her and wrapped her legs around his slim hips as he slid inside her. They rocked together. Eventually James came, his face buried in her neck, and collapsed on top of her with a long sigh. Laura assumed that was it, game over. But even drunk James was considerate, and when she reached to pull the covers up around them, he shook his head. In the dim light she could just make out that he was smiling down at her wickedly as he moved to kneel between her legs. He bent his head. Laura closed her eyes to concentrate on the sensations as he used his mouth on her, vaguely aware through the waves of pleasure that he was watching her, eyes strangely intent.

As usual, Laura woke up just after dawn. She stood up, relieved to find she wasn’t particularly hung over, apart from a dry mouth. She got a couple of glasses of water from the kitchen and put one on the bedside table closest to James. She stood by the bed, sipping hers, debating whether to get back in bed or to go and make coffee. Normally she looked forward to her morning walk, getting out into the crisp morning air, getting the blood going, but the opportunity to snuggleback under the covers with a warm bed partner and go back to sleep was tempting. She realised, with a twinge of concern, that she had no idea what to expect from James when he woke; he wasn’t exactly one for casual sex, and given how they both felt about Robbie, it wasn't inconceivable that he might feel guilty, regret their night together.

Before she could decide either way, James stretched and opened his eyes. He blinked at her and she found herself holding her breath. James smiled sleepily and held up his hand. Laura clasped it and allowed herself to be pulled down into his arms. "Morning," he said. His morning breath wasn’t exactly fresh, but no doubt hers wasn’t any better and if he wasn’t going to be fastidious about it, neither was she, so she let herself relax into his kiss, relieved, and shivered as his long fingers slid down her back and grasped her hip, pulling her down on top of him.

Later they'd go back to being just colleagues and, she thought, friends, but for now, coffee could wait.

 

 

_May 2012_

 

Laura had keys cut for Lewis and James after it became obvious they wouldn’t be able to return to their flats until the furore over the Barker.biz website and its owner’s arrest finally died down. James locked the front door quietly behind him and toed off his trainers, nudging them with his foot into the corner to join the small collection of Laura’s shoes that lived there. He trod softly down the hall, not bothering to turn the light on. A floorboard creaked and he froze with an unexpected jolt of guilt—for a moment he felt like a teenager again, stealing home after curfew, and he huffed with amusement at the idea of Laura and Inspector Lewis as parental figures, because despite the age difference, there was nothing, _nothing,_ filial in the way he felt about either of them.

A soft snuffling snore came from the room Lewis was staying in and James let out his breath and crept on. He was nearly past Laura’s room when a barely audible sound from within made him pause, unsure of what he’d heard. He leant closer and the sound came again, a whimper, and the distress in that sound had James’ hand on the door knob, turning it, before he stopped, indecisive. The sound came again, real anguish in it, and he pushed the door open a bit. "Laura?" he whispered and paused. "Laura?" he murmured, more loudly. There was no response.

Laura was crying, and the misery in it made James’ heart ache. Apart from anything else they’d been to each other, Laura was a good friend, and he couldn’t just leave her like that. He’d probably scare her to death if he tried to wake her, though. He thought about waking Lewis to ask his advice but the man had been running himself ragged on their latest case; he needed his rest. He held his guitar up close to his chest so that it wouldn't knock against the door frame as he crept into Laura’s room and quietly shut the door.

James made himself comfortable on the floor by the far wall, legs crossed, and started to play a melody he’d been working on for his band, one Laura had heard him practising a few times in the last week or two. At first he didn’t think it would work, but after a little while the sobbing eased and Laura’s breath hitched a few times. James kept playing until the end of the piece and then stopped and waited. 

"James?" Laura’s voice was shaky, tentative.

"Yes."

Laura seemed to accept that. For a while there was only the sound of her breathing evening out.

 _Nothing is more useful than silence,_ James thought, but no, not now, not Laura. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked finally, putting aside the guitar and easing himself to his feet. He leaned back against the wall.

Laura didn’t answer, long enough that James wondered if he should just leave. "Not especially," Laura said eventually, "But since you’re here I should probably bend your ear." Her voice in the darkness still sounded shaky, but there was determination there now. "My psychologist would no doubt tell me it’ll be cathartic."

Laura was seeing a psychologist? James hadn’t realised.

"After the… the grave, you know?"

Of course. "You okay?" James asked, and then could have kicked himself. Obviously she wasn’t. How could she be, after such a traumatic experience? James himself still had flashbacks of the dread he’d felt that they wouldn’t get to her in time, of holding her, hysterical with fear, desperate to comfort her, to reassure her that she was okay, that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.

Laura had never mentioned it, though; she’d just seemed to get on with things. James hadn’t asked because he hadn’t wanted to bring up bad memories. He’d thought he’d been considerate. Stupid.

"I am now, mostly, just the occasional nightmare," she said. There was a rustling noise and James could just make out the shape of Laura sitting up in bed. He wondered if he should leave now, if she’d rather be alone—he was reluctant to, at least until he knew she was alright. After a few moments Laura sighed heavily and said, "Get over here, would you, you great lump," and James smiled to himself. That sounded more like Laura.

He sat down on the edge of the mattress beside her, wondering if he should give her a hug, not sure if she’d want to be touched right now, and then Laura let out a breath and sank against him. James wrapped his arms around her and held on. "Would you like me to stay?" he asked, after a while. Laura seemed calm now, no longer clutching him so tightly, but she hadn’t let go. 

Laura nodded against his chest and then leaned away to grab a tissue and blow her nose. James stood up and got rid of his shirt and jeans, no point in false modesty between them, and slid under the covers. Laura snuggled under his arm and laid her head on his chest. "Thank you, James," she murmured. James tightened his arms around her in a quick hug in response. He stroked her hair gently, listening as her breath slowly evened out in sleep.

The room was light when he woke. Laura was still fast asleep with her head on his chest— it looked like they’d both been dead to the world all night. James reached over to his phone to check the time. It was early enough that Lewis probably wasn’t up yet so he really should go back to his own bed, if only to avoid awkward questions. He didn’t want to risk disturbing Laura though, and, selfishly, he was comfortable. Even though they’d only slept together once before, there was a comfortable sense of familiarity here, of home. It occurred to James that if it wasn’t for the spectre of Lewis between them, maybe he and Laura could have something together. On the other hand, if it wasn’t for Lewis, he and Laura would never have got together in the first place. However it had started, the comfortable friendship they had now wasn’t about Lewis anymore.

Laura was stirring. She yawned widely and stretched against him, her thigh brushing against his half-hard cock. "Mmmm," she said, looking up at him, more awake than he would have expected, and leaned up to kiss him. "Morning," she said, and the look of mischief in her eyes made James want to gather her up in his arms and roll them both over, cover her with his body and kiss her all over until she was making those sounds he remembered, to bury his face between her thighs and see how many times he could make her climax.

Fuck. 

"I should go back to my room," he murmured, regretfully.

Laura’s brow creased. "Why?"

James blinked at her. "My governor’s just down the hall, remember?"

Laura looked pensive for a moment, then she shrugged. "So we’ll be _very_ quiet."

James stared at her incredulously. "Aren’t you and he… "

"I’ve given up trying to work out what Robbie wants, James. I don't think he knows. I’m not putting my life on hold waiting for him to make up his mind."

"Fair enough," James said, a bit breathlessly, as Laura’s hand closed around him. Still with that playful look, Laura held his eyes as she moved down the bed and a short time later James was stuffing his fist in his mouth to keep quiet as Laura sucked him off, stroking behind his balls with fingers wet with spit and precome, sliding even further, circling and pushing just slightly. James held his breath, torn between urging her on and pulling away. 

He got his revenge though, when it was his turn. Laura’s tiny cries getting him hard again as he used his fingers and tongue on her. He took his time; only when her thighs were trembling and shifting restlessly, her hands clutching ineffectually at his short hair did he shift his attention fully to her clit, surprising a loud cry out of her. He raised his head. "Shhh," he warned. He watched her grab a small pillow and clutch it to her face and then he bent his head again and sucked hard, easing off and then harder again, over and over. Laura’s thighs shook as she clutched his head, keeping him in place, until she convulsed, her cries muffled under the pillow. Then she was tossing aside the pillow and tugging him up, pulling at his hair, his ears, and James went, covering her mouth with his own as she wrapped her legs about his hips, pulling him to her, into her. James went willingly, eagerly, the two of them gasping into each other’s mouths as she clenched and released around him, coming again, drawing his own climax out of him.

"So," Laura said, after they’d caught their breath. "On a scale of 1 to ‘we woke the neighbours’, how’d we do?"

"Let’s hope he’s a heavy sleeper," James retorted, too fagged out to care.

"So, this happened," Laura said, after a while, snuggling against his shoulder.

"We probably shouldn’t do this again," James said, a bit regretfully. He liked Laura a lot, but neither of them were under any illusions about where their affections lay, and no matter what Laura said, James knew that the best possible outcome here would be Lewis and Laura getting together. At least _they_ could be happy. 

"Probably not," Laura agreed, and gave him a tired pat on the chest. "Shame, though."

"Yeah," James agreed, staring at the ceiling.

 

Robbie and James finally got the okay to move back into their own flats a couple of weeks later. Robbie thought Laura’d be glad to see the back of them, though she insisted she enjoyed the company. He had to admit, he’d enjoyed coming home to the both of them in the evenings, even though he spent the better part of his work day with James. It wasn’t like James was there all the time—he had his band, and gigs to go to, and was often off in his room practicing. It was just nice to have people to come home to, to chat with about their day over dinner, to sit and watch the telly with. People he cared about.

Robbie sat down and turned the telly on. QI was due to start. That was always a safe choice if James was planning on joining them that evening, even if the clever clogs did know the right answer more than half the time. He glanced over his shoulder at where Laura was making coffee while James finished washing up her good pans. Robbie couldn’t see why they couldn’t go in the dishwasher, himself, but James and Laura had given him identical looks of horror when he’d suggested it. They'd said something about the pans rusting or chipping, he wasn’t sure which; he’d just backed away and gone to sit down out of harm’s way.

James and Laura were having a joke about something, judging by the grins on their faces, Laura looking up at James with an affectionate expression. It did his heart good to see his friends getting on well again. James had been quite cool to Laura for a while there, after what he’d seen as her rejection of Robbie; no good trying to tell the lad that there hadn’t been anything settled between him and Laura, that she’d understood that he hadn’t been ready. James was strangely protective of him. Robbie couldn’t help but be touched that he cared that much, even if it was misplaced. Still, if any good at all had come out of that terrible thing that Laura had gone through, it was that it seemed to have brought them closer.

As he watched, Laura picked up a pan from the draining board and turned away, stepping up on to the small stool she kept there to reach the higher shelves. She reached up and slid the pan onto the one above the fridge, having to lean over to give it a push into position. Robbie’s breath caught as she overbalanced, but even as he opened his mouth to call out, James was there, catching her by the waist and steadying her against his chest. Laura turned, laughing, looking down at James’ face as she rested her hands on his shoulders for balance. He couldn’t see James’ face from where he was sitting, but something about the tableau struck him as odd, just for a moment. Then James’ arms dropped and he turned back to the sink; Laura hopped down from the stool and turned back to the coffee maker, and QI started, the cheering of the audience drawing Robbie's attention to the screen. A moment later Laura brought over the coffee and settled onto the sofa next to him, her feet curled up under her, toes just resting against his thigh, and Robbie forgot about his moment of disquiet. A moment later James came over and ensconced himself on the other side of Laura, taking the cup she handed him with a smile. "Bill Bailey," James said, looking at the screen, "excellent."

Yes, Robbie was going to miss this.

 

 

_August 2013_

 

Robbie hovered by the door as James hugged Laura goodbye. Then it was his turn, and James leaned forward to give Robbie the same awkward half hug he always did when they parted company, now that they were just ‘mates’, now that they only saw each other once in a while. James smiled at them both, and then turned and hurried down the path. Robbie watched James run to his car, coat collar pulled up against the rain. He watched James slide in and shut the door, the lights and engine coming on a moment later, and then Robbie shut the door and went back into the living room, and sat down heavily. 

"Something’s up with him."

"Do you think so?"

"Aye, I do." Robbie rubbed his hands over his face, elbows on his knees. "We had all these plans. We were going to get a dinghy together, play an occasional game of squash—I’d even halfway talked him into helping on the allotment, once I got one again. Instead, it’s like he’s drifting away. Sure, he comes around for dinner when we invite him, but…" Robbie let out a frustrated breath. "Ah hell, obviously he’s just got better things to do than spend time with an old man," he said, trying not to let Laura see the hurt he felt. It was only natural, he supposed, that James would feel that way, now that he was spending the majority of his time with people closer to his own age. Still, he’d thought they were better friends than that, that James genuinely enjoyed his company.

Laura punched him on the arm, not gently. "Ow!" Robbie said indignantly, rubbing his stinging arm.

"Firstly, you are not old. Secondly, James doesn’t think you are old. Thirdly, you are an idiot."

"Thanks very much."

"You are very welcome."

"Mind explaining to me how exactly I’m an idiot? You know, since I’m an idiot, and all."

"Not everything’s about you."

"Well, what is it? Has he confided in you? Because he hasn’t told me a bloody thing. As far as I’m aware his fellowship is going swimmingly, his music’s coming on well and he’s as happy as Larry."

Laura looked like she was getting ready to call him an idiot again, but something of the hurt and bewilderment he felt must have been showing because her face softened and she patted his arm. Robbie winced. It was going to bruise, that.

"Robbie, it’s not that James doesn’t care." Laura stopped. She looked like she was trying to decide how best to say something… why? To protect Robbie’s feelings? What the bloody hell was going on?

"What, then?" he said, frustration making his voice sharp, and he grimaced apologetically.

Laura took a deep breath. "It’s hard for James." She stopped again, biting her lip. Robbie opened his mouth but closed it again as he remembered the sadness in James’ eyes as he looked at them. Other images swam in front of him. The way Laura and James smiled at each other sometimes, as if at a private joke, the way James had been extra protective of Laura after her kidnapping, and finally, as if it had been hovering at the back of his mind all this time, the way James had held Laura a few moments too long that time in the kitchen, the night before they’d moved back into their own flats.

No, he thought. Can’t be. 

But it would certain explain things. Why James didn’t come around very much, maybe it hurt him to see them together. Why James didn’t seem to want to hang out with Robbie, maybe he resented him. 

And Laura knew about it? 

"Is James in love with you?" he asked, needing to hear her confirm it. Needing to see the expression on her face when she confirmed it.

"Oh, Robbie," Laura said, sadly, and for a moment Robbie thought that was it, unbelievable as it was, but Laura was shaking her head, as though he’d missed the point entirely but if so, what could she me—

"No," he said, as he got it, as he finally understood. His mind whirled as he tried to take it in. He sat, staring at nothing, while his heart sank and then leapt, beating so hard he imagined it hammering against his ribs as he finally let himself believe the truth of it.

"Oh, Robbie," Laura said, again, and Robbie looked at her finally, and if anything she looked even sadder. 

"It’s not just him, is it?" she said, and there were tears in her eyes, although her voice was steady.

Robbie didn’t know how to answer her, he felt like the ground had been literally swept from under him and he couldn’t for the life of him find his feet again.

He was in love with James.

Laura’s hand had come up to press against her mouth. Robbie had done this to her. He was confused. He couldn’t begin to process this new knowledge, but he did know it wasn’t fair to Laura to let her sit there thinking, what, that he’d been lying to her? That he didn’t love her after all?

"Laura, lass, it’s not like that," he said, reaching to clasp her other hand, covering it with both of his. For a moment he thought she’d pull away but she didn’t, and he squeezed her hand gently, grateful for her faith, her courage.

"What _is_ it like?"

"I do love you," Robbie said, willing her to understand.

"But?"

"Until five minutes ago I would have sworn that I loved James, yes, but as a friend. Not like this. Not like I love you."

"How can you love both of us?" she asked, sounding bewildered more than anything.

"I don’t know. Laura, I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen."

"I know you didn’t," Laura said. Abruptly she pulled her hand from between his and got up. "Robbie, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to go now. I think we both have some processing to do. Alone."

Robbie got to his feet slowly and let Laura lead the way to the door. He hesitated: normally he’d kiss her goodbye, but from her downcast eyes and the way she had her arms wrapped protectively across her chest, he figured she wouldn’t welcome any expression of affection from him right now.

"I’ll call you," she said, and shrugged.

"Good night, Laura," he said, and trudged back to his car, head down, heedless of the rain running down the back of his neck, soaking his collar.

 

Robbie fretted. He didn’t want to lose Laura, just when things had finally fallen into place for them. And James. How would he face James now, knowing how James felt about him? Knowing how he felt about James. How could he have been so oblivious for so long? It was all such a god awful mess, and poor Laura didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle. As each day passed and Laura didn’t call, Robbie began to wonder if she’d decided to pack him in. He wouldn’t blame her in the least.

So when Laura showed up on his doorstep straight from work one day, paper-wrapped fish and chips in one hand, a six-pack of beer in the other, Robbie was thankful. 

"Full disclosure," Laura announced, when they’d finished eating and chucked the greasy paper in the bin and were on their third bottles of beer. "James and I have, in fact, slept together a couple of times."

Robbie blinked at her. She looked like she was bracing herself, like she was expecting him to be shocked, and maybe once upon a time he would have been, but given everything else lately, he found he couldn't get worked up about it.

"We didn’t tell you before, because, quite frankly, it was none of your business."

"Okay."

"It was ages ago, just friendship, a bit of comfort when we needed it, that’s all."

"Okay."

Laura narrowed her eyes at him. "You’re taking this better than I expected."

Robbie shrugged. "It’s not like I have the moral high ground here," he pointed out. "Besides, I know you. If it was something I should have known about, you would have told me."

"Well, alright, then."

"Why are you telling me now?"

"Because it’s relevant now, if we’re going to do this."

"Do what?"

"You. Me. James," Laura said, as though it was obvious.

She couldn't mean what it sounded like. "Not following," he said, shaking his head.

"Don’t be thick, Robbie."

"Cut me some slack," he grumbled. "It’s been a difficult week."

Laura glared at him. "It hasn’t exactly been a picnic for me, either."

"No, of course."

"James is in love with you, has been for years," Laura said, picking at the label of her nearly empty bottle. "He’d be mortified that I’m telling you this, so if you could see your way to letting him tell you in his own time, I’d be grateful."

"Why _are_ you telling me?"

"Because I need you to understand what’s at stake here. Why I’m willing to give this a go."

"This?"

"All of us. Together."

Robbie gaped at her. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of a word to say. He gulped down the rest of his beer and got up and opened another couple of bottles, aware that Laura was patiently waiting for him to catch up. He put the other beer down in front of Laura and sat down again with his own.

"Let me get this clear. You want us, the three of us, to be in a relationship together."

Laura shrugged, looking resigned. "I think we should give it a go."

"Because you believe James is in love with me."

"Because you’re in love with him too."

"I don’t know what I am."

"Yes you do."

Laura knew him too well. "Fine, doesn’t mean I should do anything about it."

"Robbie, if there’s one thing this job has taught us," Laura said, her voice softening, "it’s that life’s too short to piss away a chance at happiness."

"You think James would be happier with us than someone his own age?"

"I think that should be up to James to decide. He knows his own mind, that one."

"Aye." How many times had Robbie hinted that it was time James found someone and how many times had James all but told him what he could do with that idea?

"Robbie, bottom line," Laura said, firmly. "What do you _want_ to do? Not what you think you _should_ do."

He was still confused. He was still scared. But he knew this much: "I don’t want to lose you. Or James."

"But do you want us both? I didn’t even know you liked men. Or is James special?"

"James is definitely special, although I can’t say I’ve ever thought of him that way," Robbie said, while a little voice in the back of his mind murmured _haven’t you?_ "But no, his being a man isn’t a problem." Robbie hesitated. He rubbed the back of his neck, then clasped his hands together in his lap. "It's not like I haven't, ever."

"Robbie!" Laura leaned forward, her eyes sparkling suddenly. "Uh, anyone I know?" she asked, sounding intrigued. Robbie couldn’t help laughing a little. He should have known better than to be worried that she’d be shocked. "Feel free to tell me to mind my own business," she added, more seriously.

He didn’t want to talk about it; it wasn’t something he liked to think about, or had ever intended to revisit, but… full disclosure, she’d said, and anyway, she deserved to know. Where to even start? Laura was looking at him expectantly, no doubt expecting some boyhood love affair. He wished that was all it was. 

"Christ, I haven’t had enough to drink for this conversation," he said. His stomach was tying itself in knots at the thought of Laura’s reaction.

Laura pushed her spare beer towards him, and he clutched it gratefully. "You don’t have to tell me anything, if you’re not ready. Not now, not ever," she said.

Robbie took a deep breath. "Val and I went through a bad patch, a very bad patch, when the kids were little, I was working long hours—too many hours, really—and Val wasn’t happy. It felt like she was practically raising them alone, she said. Things were tense. Then Morse and I caught a particularly nasty case. We worked day and night until we finally put the bastard behind bars. I don’t regret that, the things he did to those women…." Robbie blinked, deliberately pushing the memories away, still too vivid after all these years. 

"What I do regret—I’d all but stopped going home. I felt dirty, and I didn’t want to take that home with me, you know?"

Beside him Laura nodded. She was solemn now. She leaned forward and put her hand over his where it lay on the table. He clutched it gratefully with his own.

"Anyway, I’d taken to having a couple of drinks at a pub about half way between the station and home, far enough from both that no one knew me, you see. The last thing I felt like was being sociable. One night there was a bloke propping up the bar much like I was. It didn’t seem like he was having the best time of it, either, though we never did get into that. We just talked a bit—about the game on the telly over the bar, about the state of the economy, you know, and when I left, he came with me. 

We walked along the riverbank awhile, not saying much, and when he asked—well, intimated but I knew what he meant—I said yes. I wasn’t drunk enough that I didn’t know what I was doing, I just, this wasn’t something I didn’t know about myself, I’d just always ignored it, hoped it’d go away, but that night I just didn’t care. I expected him to… do something there, maybe it’d have been easier—meant less—if it had been quick and dirty in the bushes, but he asked me to go back to his. It was close by, he said, and I went. Not once did I question what I was doing as I followed him. I wanted it. I wanted to not think about work, about Morse’s drinking, about those poor women, and most of all, I didn’t want to go home and face Val’s anger, her disappointment."

His memories of that night had dulled after all these years, the rage and grief he'd felt over those poor women, the overwhelming desire he'd felt to forget, just for a while, to be someone else. Not the disgust he'd felt at himself afterwards, though, or the shame.

"I stayed the night. In the morning I went home to Val and told her everything. After all the pain I’d caused her, Val forgave me. Not for a long time, I think. But we loved each other and neither of us wanted this to end us. We saw a counsellor, about my infidelity, about our marriage, about what nowadays they call my ‘work/life balance', and eventually we got past it. 

I was the luckiest man alive, and I swear to you, I never gave her cause to doubt me again."

"I know you didn’t," Laura said softly, squeezing his hand and Robbie could hear the conviction in her voice.

 

When Robbie had suggested meeting at their old local, James had just assumed it was old habits dying hard. Their regular table overlooking the river was miraculously free and the beer was good and James was feeling a little nostalgic, remembering the last time they’d sat there, when Robbie had invited him to call him by his Christian name, so it took him a little while to realise that Robbie had something on his mind. A couple of times he looked on the verge of starting to say something, but he’d take a sip of beer instead, his eyes sliding away from James to gaze at the river, pensively, it looked like. If James didn’t know any better he’d say the man was nervous. But what would Robbie have to be nervous about? Unless, and something in James’ chest tightened, unless Robbie wanted to tell him something he didn’t think James would be happy about. He and Laura were moving away, maybe, up to Manchester to be near his daughter. Or maybe, James swallowed a lump in his throat, maybe he was about to ask James to be his best man, and James would have to smile and be happy for them and stand up and watch the two people he cared most about in the world make vows to forsake all others and damn it, he _was_ happy for them.

Robbie cleared his throat. "We were wondering—Laura and I, that is…" 

James stared at him.

"If you would like to join us for dinner on Saturday night?"

That couldn’t be all? "Sure," James agreed, wary. Maybe they wanted to tell him their news then. That would be better, really. He’d have time to psych himself up for it. Be ready to smile, and congratulate them. Maybe he could even mean it.

"Maybe… stay over?"

For long moments James was convinced he must have misheard. That sounded like… Robbie couldn’t mean… but there was a dull flush staining Robbie’s cheekbones and his eyes slid away from James’ for a moment before he visibly squared his shoulders and deliberately met James' eyes again.

"Robbie," James said, and stopped. His heart was threatening to beat its way out of his chest. 

"If you’d rather not," Robbie said, and he was clutching his beer glass as though he was afraid it would be snatched away, "only Laura said—" 

"Laura said?" James repeated. Oh, God, what had Laura said? His stomach churned at the thought… all his secrets spilled before him.

"We were talking and it came out that, well, that we both rather fancy you, and Laura said that you might… feel the same way?" Robbie said, his voice rising uncertainly at the end. He looked like he'd rather be facing down a crazed murderer with a gun.

James stared at him. He couldn't even deal with the fact that they'd apparently been discussing him and come to the conclusion that they wanted a threesome with him. Apparently their sex life was more a lot more adventurous than he'd imagined, he thought, a bit hysterically. Maybe it was Laura's idea and Robbie was just going along with it. No, he couldn't imagine Robbie doing that. Besides he'd just said that he fancied James and impossible as that was to believe, the alternative, that Robbie was lying, was inconceivable. 

But that Robbie wanted this. Wanted _him_ ….

"Wasn’t it you that said sexuality isn’t black and white?" Robbie said, apparently reading his mind.

_"Robbie—"_

"You didn’t suddenly turn me, or corrupt me, if that’s what you’re thinking."

James hadn't been thinking that. He was having trouble thinking about anything at all, still stuck on the fact that Robbie apparently wanted to have sex with him.

"I’ve always been… a little bit that way," Robbie went on. "But there was Val—"

"You! You never said, back when I told you—" James felt lied to.

"But you didn't! Tell me, that is. I tried to talk to you, be supportive. I would have mentioned it, only you were so bloody cryptic, with your girlie mag and chocolate bar."

"I suppose," James said, grudgingly. 

"Right, then," Robbie said, firmly, just as though everything was settled.

Was it? James wanted to say yes—oh, how he wanted to—but God, the potential for everything going horribly wrong. Was it worth risking the relationship he had with them now, even it wasn't enough; it would never be enough? Worse, what if he was responsible for destroying their relationship? "I don’t want to come between you," he said, finally, awkwardly. 

"You won’t, or at least, only in a way we want. It’s entirely up to you, lad. If it’s not something you want, or would be comfortable with—"

"Me?" James let out an explosive breath. "I can’t believe _you_ are comfortable with this."

"I’ve had time to think about it. And I can’t say I don’t have qualms. Not about… all of us together," Lewis said slowly, "but by rights, you should be off finding yourself a nice girl—or boy—and settling down."

James just looked at him.

"Oh, don't give me that look," Robbie said, sounding exasperated. "You'll do what you like, I know."

James reached for his pack of cigarettes and took his time lighting another, avoiding Robbie’s earnest expression, while he tried to consider Robbie's offer dispassionately.

But then Robbie leaned forward and held his palm open on the table and James watched his own hand reach forward and clasp Robbie’s quite without knowing quite what he was doing.

They both stared at their joined hands.

"Alright," James said, suddenly giddy.

 

The doorbell rang at 7pm precisely. Laura wondered if James had been standing outside, waiting for the exact moment, having a smoke to calm his nerves, maybe having second thoughts. Her own hands itched for the reassuring presence of a cigarette. God, she was nervous and she was the one who was secure in her relationship with Robbie. She couldn’t imagine how much more nerve-wracking this must be for James. 

Robbie had yet to emerge from the bedroom. Not the most promising start. Laura dried her hands on the tea towel and went to answer the door. They stared at each other mutely for a moment, and then James stubbed out his cigarette, and Laura stepped back. James followed her in.

"Robbie’s still getting ready," she said, as he lingered in the kitchen doorway.

"Hiding, you mean?" James said, smiling lopsidedly, and Laura acknowledged the point with a shrug as she checked on the casserole and adjusted the timer. Five more minutes would do, she thought.

James didn’t say anything else as she pottered around getting out the cutlery and the wine glasses, not even offering to help, which was so unlike him that she turned to make sure he hadn’t bolted.

He was still there, but the look on his face was so lost that Laura started towards him. "Oh, James," she sighed, holding out her arms and he stepped into them and seemed to sag into her, his face buried in her neck as he took several long breaths.

"What am I doing here, Laura?" he asked, his words muffled.

"Just having dinner, if that’s what you want," Laura said, rubbing his back soothingly. She should have expected this, she thought. 

Robbie admitting he had feelings for James had changed everything. She’d been shocked, and hurt, obviously; no one likes to find out that they’re not enough for the person they love. Oh, intellectually she knew it wasn’t like that but no one ever said emotions weren't messy. And if it’d been anyone but James, well, she didn’t know what she would have done. Ignored it, probably, tried to make a go of it, knowing that Robbie’s heart, or part of it at least, lay elsewhere.

No, she wouldn’t have chosen this, but life didn’t always go the way you’d thought, and if it had to be someone she was glad it was James. Grateful, even. She loved James already, if not the same way she loved Robbie, and the potential for more between them had always been there.

No, it wasn’t her and James that might be the sticking point.

"Here, make yourself useful, open some wine," she ordered, pushing him in the direction of the wine rack. She got the casserole out of the cooker, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he studied the labels intently, although the range hadn’t really changed since he and Robbie had stayed with her the year before.

James straightened suddenly, his face smooth and not giving anything away. "Robbie," he said.

"James."

The air in the room suddenly seemed charged. Laura looked between them. They were staring at each other, as the cliché went, as though no one else in the world existed. There was an uncomfortable lump in her throat suddenly; she had to swallow hard. This had been her idea. "Do you two want a few minutes alone?" she made herself ask.

Their eyes flew to her, identically wide and alarmed. "No," they said in unison. They looked back at each other and grinned sheepishly, the tension broken. Robbie rubbed the back of his neck as he came towards her. "Anything I can help with?" he asked, kissing her cheek.

Laura looked at him with her best raised eyebrow. "I guess not. Sorry, pet," he said, and sat down at the table. James poured the wine while Laura served up the casserole. It was delicious, an old favourite comfort food of hers in fact, but she barely tasted it. Judging by the way James was pushing the food around on his plate, she wasn't the only one whose appetite had deserted them.

There was clatter as James abruptly put his fork down. "Look, I’m sorry, I don’t think this was such a good idea,” he said. "It was lovely of you both to think of me…."

As though they’d brought him home some tacky knick-knack from a holiday in Majorca. 

Laura put her hand over James’ where it was clenched on the table. "No, you’re right," she said, ignoring Robbie’s murmur of protest. "We shouldn’t have tried to plan it. Let's just finish our dinner and see what's on TV. There's no need to rush anything."

James squeezed her hand and then let go and picked up his fork again. This time he tucked into his food with more enthusiasm. 

The casserole really was tasty.

 

Robbie blinked his eyes open. He’d fallen asleep in front of the telly again, and judging by the dead weight on his arm, Laura had too. He went to give her a gentle nudge awake and his eyes fell on James, sitting across from them, nose in a book. The sight was so familiar, and dear, that it made Robbie’s heart ache. "You’re still here," he said.

James looked up at him, closing the book, and leaning forward to put it on the coffee table. "I'm sorry about earlier," he said. 

"No need."

"Being here, with you both, knowing you want me to be part of your lives, it’s more than I could have ever hoped for. I don't know why I...."

"Look, come to bed with us. Just to sleep, if you like. You can help me with Laura here, she’s like a sack of potatoes when she's like this," he joked.

"Oi," Laura protested, and pushed herself up. She stumbled away in the direction of the bedroom. Robbie followed her, leaving James to make his own mind up. He didn't realise he'd been holding his breath until James appeared in the bedroom doorway, holding the overnight bag he'd brought. He looked as self-conscious as Robbie felt as they got changed for bed. Laura emerged from the bathroom in stripy flannel pyjamas, not that much different to Robbie’s own.

James looked from Robbie to Laura and, unexpectedly, grinned at them. "Now I know you’re not trying to seduce me," he said dryly.

"Cheeky git," Robbie said mildly.

Robbie and Laura settled into their usual position on their sides, with Robbie’s arm slung over Laura’s waist. James lay facing them, eyes half-closed. He looked utterly content, Robbie thought, as he closed his own eyes.

 

Robbie opened his eyes and for a moment he thought he was hallucinating. Instead of Laura's sleeping face on the pillow next to him, James was there, his head propped on his hand, looking down at Robbie contemplatively.

"Morning," James murmured.

"Good morning," Robbie replied, yawning. "Where's Laura?"

"Breakfast, I think. She mentioned going for a walk. I said we’d all go together, but she insisted you and I should have a 'lie in'." Robbie could practically hear the air quotes. "I suspect that may be a euphemism," James added dryly.

James didn't seem opposed to the idea of a ‘lie in’, to judge by the focussed way he was looking at Robbie, and by the way he was still in bed, apparently waiting for Robbie to wake up.

Robbie's mouth went dry. "There’s no hurry. If you're not sure," he made himself say.

James’ gaze wandered over Robbie's face, and then slowly, as Robbie's breath caught, and his heart rate picked up, James leaned over until his lips were centimetres from Robbie's. "I'm sure," James breathed, and Robbie started to open his mouth to say… something, he didn't know what… and James kissed him. 

James may have intended it to be a chaste, getting-to-know-you first kiss, but Robbie couldn't help it, the feel of James' lips against his for the first time captivated him; he groaned and his arms slid around James' shoulders, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss. And James was abruptly falling forward on to Robbie, knocking the breath out of him. But then he was pushing himself up with his arms, taking his weight from Robbie, moving away, and Robbie didn't want that, not when they'd come this far. He tightened his arms and when James let himself be pulled down again, still off balance, Robbie took the opportunity to roll them over, so he was covering James with his body. James' thighs bracketed Robbie’s hips as he thrust up, their erections rubbing together through their thin pyjamas as they kissed. Robbie reached down with the hand not supporting his weight and fumbled James’ pyjamas down enough that he could get hold of James’ cock, and then, the sound of his heart beating loudly in his ears at his daring, he kissed his way down James' torso, holding James' eyes as they widened when he realised Robbie's intention. Robbie hesitated only a moment as he was confronted by the reality of James' cock in front of him, flushed and hard and leaking, his musk strangely a turn-on. Then he took a deep breath and slid his mouth over it, taking it slowly, carefully, well aware that he was to all intents and purposes new at this, notwithstanding that one night over two decades ago, the details of which were blurred in his memory anyway.

James didn't seem to have any complaints. One hand clutched the sheets beside him, the other hand grasped Robbie's hair, but carefully. The slight pull wasn't turning Robbie off, quite the opposite. Robbie was determined to make this as good as he could for James, who'd apparently, so Laura said, wanted it—him—for years. When his jaw gave a twinge he started varying his technique, alternating sucking, licking, and jerking him with his hand. James was breathing heavily, and when his hips started making little jolting movements Robbie pulled away and finished him off with his hand, watching James' flushed face as he gasped and bit his lip, his eyes fluttering closed as he came. 

When James released his grip on his hair, Robbie crawled back up to lay next to him, casually stroking his own erection. There was no hurry; they could stay in bed all day if they were so inclined, he realised. He watched James affectionately as James’ breathing calmed and his eyes slowly opened.

"Alright?" Robbie asked, for something to say, because James was just _looking_ at him.

James blinked, and a tiny smile crooked his mouth. "Why sir, I didn't know you had it in you," James said, and it sounded facetious, the way he said it, but his eyes….

"Just so you know," Robbie said, because he didn't know what to do with that—not even Val had ever looked at him with such awe, "I am _heroically_ letting that one slide, on the grounds that it's too early in the relationship for such blatant double entendres."

"I don't know," James said. "Seven years of flirting, I think that counts as enough foreplay, don't you?"

"You mean… right from the start—you…?"

"Admired you, yes. How could I not? You're a bloody brilliant copper, you don't let anyone or anything stand in your way, yet you have this depth of caring—"

"Get out of it," Robbie said, his face warm, his heart doing stupid little flip-flops.

"And most of all," James continued, "you seemed to 'get' me, and that happens less often that you think," he said, drolly.

"James—" 

"Did I miss anything?" Laura's voice made Robbie start on a flash of guilt, even as he realised that there was no need, that this was allowed; this was his life now. He couldn't help feeling self-conscious though, lying next James, who hadn’t bothered to pull up his pyjama bottoms, his t-shirt soaked with sweat as he sprawled beside Robbie looking completely debauched. Robbie looked back at Laura, not sure what to expect, but she was regarding James with an appreciative smirk on her face as she sipped her coffee. It reminded Robbie that James and Laura had been together—that she'd seen him like this before. The sudden surge of anger he felt surprised him. He'd been too overwhelmed by his own emotional turmoil to feel anything but numb when Laura had first told him about the two of them, and afterwards he'd firmly told himself that he had no right to judge them. 

But Laura was looking at them both with affection, and not a little heat, to judge by the flush on her cheeks. Robbie reminded himself that if anyone here had the right to feel hard done by it wasn't him. Laura was the one who'd had to compromise.

"Laura," James murmured, and Robbie looked back at him, at the way he was looking at Laura with half closed eyes. That was his sexy voice; the one he'd used that time for the phone sex line. Robbie had thought he'd been putting it on—it certainly hadn't had the same effect on him then that it was having now, shivering along his nerves, and James wasn't even addressing him. 

James was half hard again. _Oh, the recuperative powers of youth_ , thought Robbie wryly. His own erection had flagged somewhat. Movement out of the corner of his eye made him look up again. While he was distracted Laura had put her coffee down and she was matter-of-factly stripping out of her pyjamas. James was doing the same, and apparently this was it now, they were actually doing it.

Robbie started to unbutton his pyjama top but he was all thumbs. Laura brushed his hands away, and in no time Robbie was bare-chested and James was sliding Robbie's pyjama bottoms down his legs, looking up at Robbie as he did so, his eyes wicked.

Robbie couldn’t decide who to reach for first, both of them beautiful in their nakedness, but then he didn’t have to make that choice because Laura was moving to sit astride his thighs, her lovely breasts brushing his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck. For a while they kissed leisurely. Robbie let his hands drift along her sides, stroking lightly along the undersides of her breasts, her ribcage, her hips. He pressed kisses along her jaw and under her ear as she tilted her head to give him better access. Laura’s breath was growing shorter and deeper. Robbie sucked kisses onto her throat, not quite hard enough to leave a mark, and Laura’s hands cradled the back of his head, flexing as if she wanted hold him there. He was getting hard again.

James. He looked up to see where James was, and James was right there, as though waiting for Robbie to notice him. Then James was rolling a condom on him, holding his cock in position as Laura sank on to him. She was riding him, her eyes fixed on his face. Robbie forgot everything except Laura, the feel of her soft breasts in his hands, the way she gasped and her eyes lost focus as he fondled her nipples, her attention turned inward at the sensations. Her heat surrounded him and she moaned softly as she clenched around his cock, tipping her head back with a cry as all her muscles tensed up at once. The pressure was building at the base of his cock. Robbie thrust up once, twice, and then he was coming too, pushing up into Laura and holding himself there as he emptied himself into her.

Moments later Laura was toppling sideways, and even as Robbie tried to gather himself enough to reach for her, James was there, James was laying her down and kissing her, positioning himself over her and thrusting inside, his hand busy where their bodies joined. Laura was crying out again, a note in it that Robbie hadn't heard before and he realised, watching her shudder, that she was coming again, or maybe she hadn't really stopped, because she was still lost in pleasure, her limbs jerking and shaking and Robbie hadn't known that about her, she hadn't told him. _Good work, Sergeant Hathaway,_ he thought, still relaxed and feeling mellow.

James was thrusting gently in her, taking his time, obviously, as she shuddered around him. Robbie sat up, gaze caught by the way James' head was bowed over her, his neck one long arch. Robbie had an urge to put his hand there, just to touch him, so he reached over and put his hand on James' nape, clasping it lightly, not even sure exactly what he was doing. The effect on James was dramatic. His whole body froze and he gave one whole body shudder. "Robbie," he said, and came, hips jerking erratically for long moments. He slid to the side, sandwiched between Robbie and Laura, his eyes closed, breathing in great gulping breaths. Over his head Robbie met Laura’s sleepy, satisfied eyes and they smiled at each other.

 

 

_July 2014_

 

The dinghy rocked sharply as Robbie did something to the sail. Laura dropped the medical journal she was reading and grabbed at the sides instinctively as water splashed over the sides, and then the dinghy was turning; the sail caught the wind at just the right angle and picked up speed again. Robbie laughed delightedly and Laura looked up to see James grinning at him proudly. Robbie looked away from the sail and caught James’s smile and then, one hand still holding onto the mast, he slid his arm around James’ waist and drew him to him, and kissed him. 

Stealthily, Laura held up her phone and snapped a picture. Not sneakily enough. Robbie turned and winked at her cheekily. His cheeks were ruddy from the wind. His bare arms were tanned and had gained more definition in the year or so since he’d taken up working on the allotment again, not to mention all the hauling the dinghy around. He looked healthy, and more importantly, happy.

Beside him, James was squinting up at the sail, doing something to the ropes. In deference to the heat, he’d gone without a t-shirt today. He was starting to look a little pink across the shoulder blades, probably time to reapply the sun cream. She’d get up in a sec, give him a hand. Or maybe watch Robbie do it. It was a tough decision.

Laura snapped another picture and put away her phone. She picked up her reading again as James tied off the rope. She didn’t get a chance to start reading again though, because James was suddenly squishing onto the small seat beside her. He put his arm around her and kissed her soundly on the cheek and the journal was whisked out of her hand. "Hey!" she said indignantly as it disappeared from sight.

"Today’s outing is all about practical learning, Doctor," James announced teasingly, and he was lifting her to her feet, Robbie leaning forward to take her hand and guide her to hold on to the mast. For a moment she was sandwiched between the two of them, both of them grinning down at her with matching gleeful looks on their faces, and with a put-upon sigh she took hold of the ropes.


End file.
